


The End

by feelskilledthefangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Angel Family, Angel Siblings, Angel Wings, Dark Dean Winchester, Dark Sam Winchester, Dean Bears The Mark of Cain, Dean Being an Asshole, Dean Winchester Karaoke, Dean Winchester singing, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon Powers, Demon Summoning, Demon!Dean, Demons, Dying Castiel, F/M, Fallen Angels, Fallen Castiel, Feels, First Blade, Human Castiel, Hunter Sam, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Sam, Karaoke, Knight of Hell, Knight of Hell Dean, Mark of Cain, POV Castiel, POV Dean Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Sad Castiel, Sad Sam, Year of the Deanmon, deanmon, supernatural season ten
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 09:19:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2264256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feelskilledthefangirl/pseuds/feelskilledthefangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the Mark of Cain finally taking over, Dean heads off to explore his new and ever growing power.  Sam and Cas are lost, broken, and trying to chase him down to in order to save the rogue man from his damning fate. Just how far are they willing to go to bring Dean back under control?</p><p>-SERIOUS SEASON NINE SPOILERS-<br/>-JUST FYI-<br/>-IF YOU READ THIS AND HAVEN"T WATCHED THE FINALE DON"T BLAME ME! I HAVE WARNED YOU!-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to a New Kind of Life

-Sam POV-

Sam poured himself a drink. He felt dead inside. Everything that he- no.... that they had worked for failed in the end.

Dean was dead, killed by the dick Metatron. They had gotten so far and everything had just ended up failing and going to shit in just a few short weeks.

'No..... I'm not going to let it end like this! There has to be a way to fix this. This can't be the end.' Sam thought to himself painfully. The lone hunter had no idea where the hell Cas had gone off to, Metatron had gotten away, and Dean was now dead. Again. Sam needed a plan. 'I need to find the demon at the source of this. The one who caused Dean’s downfall in the first place! I'm gonna to summon Crowley.' 

Sam downed the rest of his drink quickly before pausing momentarily to watch the empty oppressing walls of the bunker. He stared blankly at the walls as the weight of loss settled down upon Sam’s broad shoulders. The hunter could feel nothing but pain and numbness spreading throughout his veins. After a minute he forced himself to clear him mind and focus on the new task at hand.

Sam stood up and walked into the other room where an altar he had created was set up and waiting patiently for him. His eyes stinging, puffy and red Sam growled "Damn it Crowley. You got him into this mess. You WILL get him out..... Or so help me God."

The young Winchester bent down and pulled out a book of matches before lighting the shrine that lay before him.

-Dean POV-

Dean could feel it bubbling inside him. He was supposed to be dead... He felt himself die! Felt the blade pierce through his chest, saw the look of evil and victory plastered across Metatron's face. Dean remembered the fear and panic that echoed in his little brothers voice as Sam tried to save him. He pictured that small smile Sam had tried to force for him as he watched his brother die painfully in his arms. He remembered telling Sam he was proud of them. And finally.... Dean remembered the final shuttered breath forced into his lungs before the world went black.

Now, Dean could fell his body again. This shouldn't be happening; he had never felt like this after death. It was odd. Almost as if someone or something had suddenly captured his soul and pulled it back into his body. Dean realized that he now felt more human and normal than he had since first getting the Mark of Cain. Maybe it had released him from the curse! Maybe if you died the mark just went away! The hunter began to feel hopeful as these thoughts crossed his mind.

After a moment, Dean realized that he was no longer in the old warehouse he died at. The rusty smell was gone and was replaced with the soft homey smell of the bunker.

Everything seemed to be back to normal until Dean tried to move. He tried to sit up but nothing happened. He began to panic as the reality of the situation dawned on him. Dean began screaming and thrashing inside his own head but no one could hear him. He was trapped within the confines of his own dark mind. Dean felt like he was in a coma again, except this time he was unable to get out of his body and walk around. He couldn’t even see anything around him! This was a new type of hell.

Fear was coursing through his veins as he tried to think. ‘Why am I alive? Where the hell is Sammy and Cas? What the fuck going on?’

Dean was trying everything possible to get anyone's attention or even move a muscle. All his efforts were futile, he was stuck like this. He didn’t even know if there was anyone in the room with him.

Suddenly, Dean’s mind fell silent as he heard something moving nearby. He wasn’t alone and his heart swelled with happiness. Dean listened to the rustling of fabric and the soft click of shoes on linoleum. His first thought was Cas. Cas was finally here. He was coming to save him.

‘Cas! Buddy! I'm still alive in here somehow! Help me man! This sucks ass! Is Sammy okay? Where is he?’ Dean shouted in his mind hoping the angel could hear him.

When the man spoke up Dean felt his blood run cold. Dean had no choice but to listen as none other than Crowley, the King of fucking Hell, began talking to him.

"Your brother, bless his soul....... is summoning me as I speak. Make a deal bring you back. It's exactly what I was talking about isn't it. It's all become sooo....... Expected."

‘Fuck you Crowley! Don't you dare hurt Sam! You better fix this shit!’ Dean shouted through his head. The hunter couldn't see the demon, he couldn't physically scream at him, nor could he beat the shit out of him. All Dean could do was silently curse the demon back to hell within the confines of his own mind.

"You have to believe me." Crowley said after a short pause. "When I suggested you take on the Mark of Cain I didn't know this would happen."

'Yeah right you asshole!' Dean screamed.

"Not really...." Crowley mumbled. "I mean I might not have... told you the entire truth, but I never lied."

'Righhht..... You’re the king of lies Crowley!' Dean growled.

"I never lied Dean!" Crowley said sounding angry. "That's important."

The hunter was begging to wonder if Crowley could hear him.

"It's fundamental...." Crowley paused. "But.... There is one story about Cain that I might have.... Forgotten to tell you....."

'Oh yeah.... Sureee forgotten my ass!!' The hunter hissed in anger.

"Apparently, he too was willing to accept death, rather than becoming the killer the mark wanted him to be."

'Yeah well, I ain't dead Crowley!' Dean screamed.

"So he took his own life with the blade...... He died."

'Fantastic. But I'm still not dead! And I was stabbed by a fucking angel blade not the damn First Blade!'

Crowley ignored Dean thoughts as he said "Except..... as rumor has it... the mark never quite let go."

Dean's mind stilled at that thought. He couldn't still have the mark could he? The hunter couldn't even feel it anymore. Normally it pulsed and throbbed slightly under his skin.

Suddenly, Dean heard a rustling from where the demon was sitting. He felt the blade. He could sense Crowley holding it gingerly his hands. The Mark of Cain roared to life, like a snake waiting to strike. It was writhing and itching under his skin, almost burning him. Dean felt it when Crowley ran his fingers along the sides of the blade. It was almost as if the knife was bonded to him and had become a part of him.

'Crowley.......' Dean thought in a warning tone. 'What the hell are you doing?'

"You can understand... why I never spoke of this... Why set hearts aflutter at mere speculation......."

Dean heard the chair squeak as Crowley stood up. "It wasn't until you summoned me." The demon walked over to where Dean was laying.

'Get the hell away from me Crowley!' The hunter could feel the blade getting closer to him. He felt its power overtaking his body again without even touching him. The mark becoming more and more excited as burned hotter and hotter.

"No, it wasn't truly until you left that cheeseburger uneaten." Crowley placed the blade in Dean's hand. Fire ripped thought his arm as the mark lit up and glowed brightly. Its power began washing over him, filling every muscle, every vein, and every pore of his frozen body with its evil power.

"And I began, to let myself... Believe....." Crowley moved Dean's arm and placed it and the blade onto his chest.

The wave of strength and energy came at him like a tsunami. The hunter tried to fight against this mind-numbing iron fist holding him down. He couldn't let this happen. He needed to get back to Sam and Cas. Dean didn't want to become this. He never wanted to become this. This was his biggest fear. Dean was becoming the thing he hated most, the thing that killed his mom, the thing that killed his dad, the thing that wrecked Sam and Dean’s lives. It was boiling under his skin, cooking him from the inside out. Dean was fighting hard against the mark, but he was quickly losing the battle.

"Maybe miracles do come true...." Crowley purred softly.

'Sam I am so sorry! I am so sorry for everything man. And Cas buddy, I guess I'm not your pure righteous man anymore. I know you gave everything for me.' Dean could feel himself slipping away, his humanity leaving his veins, being forced out by the overwhelming control of the mark.

"Listen to me Dean Winchester" Crowley said, trying to talk over the voice of Dean screaming his unspoken apologies in his head.

Dean tried to ignore the demon. 'I forgive you guys for everything that I ever held against you no matter how wrong or right I was. I apologize for every mistake I ever made. I only did what I thought was right.'

"What you're feeling right now.... It's not death, its life... A new kinda life..." Crowley continued.

The hunter shouted louder as the remainder of his pureness began flooding out of him like a steady stream. 'You tried to save me from myself; you both did, but this power.... It's like nothing else... it consumes every part of you.'

"Open your eyes Dean. See what I see. Feel what I feel...... Let's go take a howl at that moon."

‘It invades every thought, every memory, every damn dream you have ever had, and it twists it all. It makes power, the only thing you care about. I'm so sorry. I can't be saved. I'm sorry....... I'm sor-'

Those were the last human thought of Dean Winchester before the mark fully consumed him and twisted his once pure, beautiful soul into an ugly, deep, dark, nothing.

Dean opened his eyes, the beautiful green replaced with dark, black, demonic eyes. For the first time the new knight of hell looked up into the true face of the demon who risen him from the dead and given him this new kind of life.


	2. Missing

-Sam’s POV-

Sam waited for close to half an hour for Crowley to come. He shouted himself horse and cursed the demons name, calling him every name he could coherently form in his mind. Sam had even remade the altar. Twice. And yet there was still there was nothing.

Finally, he lost it. Tears of pain and sadness began streaming freely down his already swollen face as he kicked the golden bowl sharply. Burnt ashes flew into the air as the container skittered across the floor and smashed violently the opposite wall with a resounding CRACK.

"FUCK YOU CROWLEY! FUCK YOU!! THIS WHOLE DAMN THING IS YOUR FUCKING FAULT! I'M GOING TO TRACK YOUR ASS DOWN AND KILL YOU MYSELF!!" Sam screamed into the empty air.

He turned towards the wall and slammed his fist into the dark, solid concrete as hard as he could. Instantly, he felt at least half the bones in his hand shatter painfully. The wall stood firmly in place under the beating it had received, while Sam flailed around in anguish. "SON OF A BITCH!!" He wailed clutching his arm to his chest.

The only plus side to the ripping pain in his hand was that it had momentarily distracted him from the loss of his brother. Sam, chest heaving, hand screaming, somehow managed to stumble almost blindly from the next room as fresh tears made themselves known. He clambered around the bunker aimlessly looking for pain medicine to numb his hand with.

Finally, he found the medicine at the bottom of his duffle bag and quickly took a handful of them. His crippled hand was still clutched firmly against his chest as he scrambled for something to bind the injury in place.

Sam’s stomach churned in disgust as he looked down and clearly saw each see dislocated bone turned at funny angles beneath his skin. With his good hand Sam grasped the broken hand firmly and took a deep breath. ‘Okay…. You’ve done this before…. Just relax’ The hunter thought to himself.

Before he could really think about what he was doing, Sam pulled hard and felt bones in his wrist grind together painfully. His fingers made extremely loud, disgusting sounding clicks and pops as each bone was forced back into place. The pain level skyrocketed and Sam screamed bloody murder as each joint moved. Splotches of black flashed in front of his eyes as he came close to passing out. His breathing was labored, coming in short and fast as he tried to get the pain under control.

Once he was able to calm himself down Sam gingerly checked each bone to ensure that everything was back where it belonged. After, he made a makeshift cast from ace bandages and wooden poles. Pain was still coursing through his body as he searched feverishly for the shoulder sling that they kept at the bunker.

When Sam had finished, stormed to the kitchen and grabbed another beer, drinking the whole thing in only a few swallows. He wanted to be numb as possible. Sam knew that as soon at the beer and medicine kicked in he wouldn’t have to feel a damn thing, just a blissful numbing sensation. He swept his good hand up to brush long hair and beads of sweat from his dark brown eyes. He needed to get back to his mission of saving Dean. No more distractions, there was work to be done.

Sam rushed into the bunker’s massive library and began pulling out every book on necromancy, demons, angels, witches, black magic, and anything else he could find that he might need. Sam then spent at least an hour looking through dozens of books trying to find anyway to bring Dean back.

Eventually, the pain killers began to kick in and Sam watched as the words blurred on the page. He was getting a headache from just looking at them. His sense of logic was slowly slipping away but Sam really didn’t really care. Dean was the only thing that mattered to him right now. In the back of his mind he felt that he should go get his hand checked out, but he convinced himself that it could wait. He needed to bring Dean back first.

“God Damn it….” Sam growled in irritation as he reached the point where he physically could not read another word. He stood up abruptly as watched at the world spun dizzyingly. The pain in his hand had significantly lessened, but much of Sam’s logical thinking had left with it.

He turned to walk down the long hallways of the empty bunker hoping to come up with a plan. He had a determined look on his face and he walked towards Dean’s room. 

As he strode across the floor Sam thought of all the other times Dean had died. He had a very unsettling theory that Dean might not be able to come back this time. The mark had taken hold of his big brother's shattered soul, and quickly turned him into someone he never wanted to be. Dean had become dark, brooding and almost evil in Sam’s opinion. His views had been twisted and his attitude had been altered dramatically. The Mark of Cain had held on to Dean firmly until his very last breath. Now Sam knew that Dean was either stuck in the veil with thousands of other restless spirits or buried deep down in the darkest pits of hell once again. Either way Sam knew his brother was royally screwed.

Once he had reached his brothers room Sam leaned his head against the wall outside. ’Pull yourself together man!’ Sam tried to tell himself.

He was wresting within the confines of his own mind trying to tell his legs to move. It took almost five minute for Sam to compose himself. He took a deep breath before pushing off the wall carefully and walking slowly into the dimly lit room.

Sam nearly choked as he crossed the threshold. ‘I must have taken to many damn meds….’ Sam thought warily to himself as he rubbed at his eyes. He held his brown eyes shut for a few seconds trying to convince himself that this was all just a dream. When he opened his eye again nothing had changed, he wasn’t hallucinating. This was actually happening.

‘This can’t be fucking possible…’ Sam’s mind was numb as he looked at the spot where he had laid his brother’s lifeless body down earlier. The room appeared to be exactly almost the same as when he had first left Dean in here. 

The only problem with the picture was that the bed was now completely empty and his brother was nowhere in sight. Panic roared to life within Sam’s chest as his eyes wildly scanned the room.

“D-Dean?” Sam called softly at first. Then he started calling louder and louder until he was screaming for his brother from his already dry, raw throat. “Dean!!! DEANNN!”

After about an hour of frantically searching the entirety of the enormous bunker and uselessly shouting for his brother, Sam finally sat down and let his head fall onto his good arm. ‘What the hell am I going to do?’ He thought to himself in defeat. Sam’s eyes where so dry that he was physically unable to shed another tear. “Where the hell are you Dean?” Sam mumbled.

A million questions were running though his head as Sam sat at the table. ‘Is he even alive? If Dean is then… why the hell did he leave? Did Crowley take him? Metatron maybe?’ Sam knew he needed Cas to help him with this but, he had no idea where the damn angel could even be right now.

He knew that the best way to reach him was by performing another summoning ritual. Sam wasn’t even sure that it would work with the angel in his weakened state. It might even hurt Castiel more, but Sam didn’t care. It was the best chance he had and he knew that this was a risk that he needed to take.

“I need supplies…..” Sam mumbled to himself as he sat up slowly. 

It took a lot more black magic mojo to summon an angel than it did for a demon and Sam was 100% sure that he didn’t have all the right supplies on hand. It was beyond infuriating that angel prayers didn’t work very well anymore. Metadouche was basically the only angel with the power to that anymore. The fucker had messed everything up. He had locked all the other angels out of heaven and was the final piece to his brother’s heart wrenching death. Sam had given Metatron the second place position of creatures he wanted to kill. Crowley had rightfully claimed his own spot in the number one position. Sam would be damned if he didn’t gank both of their asses before he himself died.

Sam sighed deeply and went back into Dean’s empty room to grab the Impala’s keys. He had left them on the end table after driving back to the bunker only a few hours earlier. When Sam got into the room again he walked over to the bed and froze as his face crinkled in confusion.

Dean’s keys were gone.

‘That- that can’t be possible… I-I must have dropped them without noticing.’ Sam thought to himself. The hunter was sure that he had left them there. Quickly but thoroughly, Sam’s bloodshot eyes scanned the entire room in search of the missing single black key with the hollow golden .223 / 5.56 caliber Winchester bullet shell attached to it. Sam had even moved the small end table to see if the key had fallen somewhere out of sight.

Sam finally came up empty handed.

“Son of a Bitch Dean!” Sam growled.

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as conclusions began storming in to his already very cluttered and confused brain. Dean had to be alive. Who else would have taken the damn keys? ‘What the hell is going on here…. This can’t be possible. Dean DIED! I watched him die.’ Sam thought brokenly as he ran his fingers roughly though his long scruffy hair.

“Shit….” The hunter groaned with a defeated sigh as he closed his eyes tightly. “Time for plan B…..” He muttered to himself as he pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. “This is going to be a bitch….”

Fortunately for Sam, the bunker had its own personal miniature classic car collection. He still couldn’t believe Dean had just left like that. It was utter bullshit. This mark was causing Dean to make stupid ass decisions. His brother had been right, this definitely felt like a fucking dictatorship now. Dean was the only one calling the shots and Sam was sick of it.

Fire boiled in his gut as he thought of where Dean might be. He was probably at some damn bar or trying to get into some ladies pants again. He defiantly couldn’t have gotten far. If Sam found Cas soon enough than maybe, just maybe, they could get Dean back before he left the state or fuck up royally. He had no time to waste and with that, he moose charged off towards the bunker garage.

Once in the garage, he ripped a set of keys from the wall with a tremendous amount of force. Sam quickly became angry as he discovered that he had accidentally grabbed a set of keys that belonged to one of the old motorcycles stashed away within the bunker walls. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to drive a damn motorcycle with his hand in this condition. Sam trotted quickly back over to the wall and instead grabbed the keys their very old, but well-kept, light green 1957 Bel Air Convertible.

“This will have to do….” Sam mumbled as he opened the garage door. The hunter climbed into the car and revved the engine loudly before pealing out of the bunker. He was on his way to get Castiel’s ass back here in order to bring his big brother back home, where he belonged.

Sam was beyond willing to go to any length necessary to save Dean. And he meant any length. They still had things to do. The Winchester legacy couldn’t end this way. Sam wouldn’t let it end this.

~~~

No more than two hours later Sam had returned to the bunker and began setting up the summoning ritual for Castiel. It took half an hour to properly set it all up. Sam had forgotten how difficult it was to do things with only one hand.

Finally, he sat back on his heels and stared down at the spread lying before him. “Alright Cas… fly your feathery ass down here man. Dean needs you.” Sam grumbled before lighting a match and muttering the proper Latin words to complete the ritual.

He threw the match down and the makeshift altar erupted into flames causing Sam flinch away. When he opened his eyes again Sam found that Castiel had not magically appeared before him like he had expected him to. Sam was still the only one occupying the bunker.

“Son of a Bitch! Fuck Cas! I need you! Something is wrong with Dean!” Sam practically wailed as he waited impatiently for the damn angel to show his face. 

When still nothing happened, Sam fell to his knees and began desperately praying for Castiel to come and help him. He was almost positive that the messages probably weren’t going through. Sam didn’t only pray for Cas. He just needed someone’s helps and he was willing to take almost anyone at this point. This wasn’t something that Sam was going to be able to handle very well on his own. The burden of this challenge was bigger than Sam could face alone.

Can’t things just be simple for once?

“Cas… Please.” Sam choked softly as he closed his eyes tightly and slumped against the wall behind him. The cold concrete seeped through his clothes and made the hunter shiver lightly.

After a few moments he opened his eyes and quickly scanned the area. Finding the room still empty set waves of pain and abandonment through Sam’s cold dark veins.

“I guess I’m on my own again.” Sam growled stiffly.

A flash of white hot rage obscured the hunter’s vision. Tears were flecked across his face before Sam screamed “Fine. Don’t help you asshole!! I don’t need you anyways. Fuck you! I always knew angels were just as unreliable as demons. You can never trust on them! At the end of the day family's the only one you can count on and now I've gotta go save what’s left of mine...."

With that Sam stormed off to engage step one of his new ‘Saving Dean Reconnaissance Mission.’ There was no limit that Sam wasn’t willing to cross. He wasn’t going to leave his brother this time. He had shied away from that far too many times before. Sam was going to make sure Dean came back in one piece this time.


	3. So Far Gone

-Dean POV-

It’s had been four weeks since Dean last saw his brother. He occasionally wondered how long it took Sam to find the note that he left on his brothers' bed. Dean assumed that it took Sam a few hours to find the hurriedly scribbled note that said ‘Sammy let me go’. The last place Sam would have ever looked for him was his own room. That was part of the reason he left it there. It gave him a chance to get farther away before Sam came looking for him. 

Dean didn't want Sam to come find him. He wasn't human anymore. He had a new life to live now and he was gonna make it fucking good. Dean wanted to make the best of this new careless freedom he felt running through his veins. He felt as if all the responsibilities that had been that had been thrown so carelessly on him over the past 31 years had just washed away. It was so much easier being a demon. He didn't have to care about anything. Nothing lay on his shoulders anymore. Dean was a new man now…. Or… well a new demon you should say.

Dean had to admit that his time as a demon had been the best month of his entire life. Being like this full time was awesome as hell! (No pun intended) It was all just so fucking perfect. Dean loved it.

His life was simple. Babes, beer, sex and stirring up the shit. Crowley insisted on tagged alone with Dean and they had been becoming closer as friends, but Dean still ran the show. The ball was in his court now and Dean really didn't wanna share with anyone.

The very first night left, Dean had driven for 12 hours straight until he reached a motel two states away from his brother. He knew Sam would try to come after him eventually, but all he had to do was keep him guessing.

Dean hadn’t bothered with checking into a motel, he had simply parked the impala outside and spread his new bony black wings and flew into an empty room.

‘Fuck paying.’ Dean thought. ‘I can do whatever the hell I want. Just try and fucking stop me.’

The demon walked into the motel’s tiny bathroom and looked up into the small glass mirror. His new face that shone underneath the skin was actually enough to startle the man slightly. Dean had kind of forgotten that his face wouldn’t look the same way when he was a demon.

He lifted his skeletal hand to touch the dark, bony, blood stained, demonic, black eyed face that he saw in the mirror. His reflection appeared blurry and unfocused, shaking slightly as Dean looked at himself. The mirror seemed to be almost unable to accurately capture his true horrific features.

A toothy grin spread across Dean’s face, which revealed his extremely sharp, pointy teeth. He kinda liked the new look. It showed what he really was inside. A monster. After a moment he noticed the wings protruding from his back. Those were interesting as well. They were dark skeletal things that glinted softly in the poor lighting of the motel room. Dean could easily maneuver the wings and bend them to his will. They would take a little bit of getting used to, but they were still exciting nonetheless.

Dean wondered if he could see his old face again if he wanted to. I mean who wouldn’t want to look at him with a face like his. Dean liked this self-pride that he felt within his chest. Without all the responsibilities on his head Dean felt like he could actually love himself now. He looked back into the mirror and squinted slightly at himself. Finally, after an intense amount of concentration the demonic face faded and his normal face became easier to see. The dark, evil face never truly vanished but it was good enough for Dean.

The man looked at his battered body and scoffed quietly. He blinked once and he was instantly healed. The blood was gone, his clothes looked snazzy, and he had even given himself a new hairstyle that screamed bad boy all over it.

Dean trailed his fingers through his hair and smirked at himself. “Damn Winchester, you can really clean yourself up nice, now can’t you.” Dean growled to himself.

There was a hollow fluttering of bony wings from behind him and a few seconds later Dean heard the distinct accent of none other than Crowley. “Hello Dean. Enjoying the view of yourself are you?”

“What do you want Crowley.” Dean snapped in annoyance as he continued to look at himself.

“Oh don’t be like that Dean. We’re buddies remember. I brought you back…. I gave you this Dean.” Crowley purred as he came up closer to the hunter and tried to clap him on the back.

Suddenly the first blade was at Crowley’s neck. “Watch yourself Crowley.” Dean warned.

“Relax Dean. I’m not going do anything to you.” Crowley said rolling his eyes slightly. He tried to hide the fact that the first blade digging into his throat was making him nervous.

Crowley quickly took a few steps back before asking “How do you feel Dean?”

“I feel better than ever. Stronger, freer, nothing can stop me Crowley. And believe me when I say, I’m not scared of you. I can end you if I want to.” Dean said with a confident smirk.

The demon king simply raised his eyebrows and asked “And what has become of the moose.”

“He’s probably at the bunker looking for me.” Dean scoffed not really caring. Sam was no threat to him, so Dean didn’t need to worry. He would handle his brother later if he had to.

“Ah…. And you aren’t worried that he might… find you?” Crowley asked.

“Hell no. I was a better hunter than he ever was. I know his patterns. He won’t catch me. Besides, how would he stop me?” Dean boasted arrogantly as he puffed up his chest.

Dean finally turned away from his reflection and looked at Crowley. “Damn you’re uglier than I thought.” Dean remarked with a laugh.

Crowley’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Well you aren’t much of a looker yourself anymore now are you Dean.”

“No, I was always a stud. Still am. I’m even better now.” Dean said

Crowley rolled his eyes again and shook his head slowly in disbelief.

“Well… later.” Dean called as he suddenly turned to walk from the room.

“Woah! Where the hell do you think you’re going Dean?” Crowley demanded.

“To a bar. To get fucking wasted. I mean I gotta make the best of this! Shit I might even pick me up a chick or two and have a little party tonight!” Dean said as he licked his lips and rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

“It’s barely noon Dean!” Crowley exclaimed in exasperation.

“And?”

“I guess that’s never stopped you before. Your body is probably made up of ninety-five percent alcoholic beverages. So I should have guessed that your first stop would be a bar….. Strip club would have been my second guess” Crowley sarcastically.

Dean laughed evilly and said “Oh don’t worry that’s happening later tonight too.” Dean flashed a demonic grin at the King of Hell who just sighed and turned away to grab Dean’s keys.

Crowley sighed before looking up at Dean and saying “Let’s go take a Howl at that Moon then…”

“Keys.” Dean said with a hard stare as he held out his hand to the higher level demon.

Dean glared down at the man in determination, not moving an inch until Crowley’s face soured and he placed the single silver key with the bullet key chain into the other man’s open hand.

“You don’t have to be control of everything Dean…” Crowley said.

“I will do whatever the hell I wanna do Crowley.” Dean snapped angrily as he turned to stalk towards the door. What he didn’t see was the proud, evil smile that flickered across Crowley’s face as Dean walked away.

As soon as Dean sat down in the Impala Crowley flew into the passenger seat.

“You could have just flown here you know.” Crowley said smugly when he appeared.

“Yeah well I didn’t.” Dean shot back. In truth, he had already forgotten that he could fly. He was still getting used to the demonic advantages.

“Touchy are we.” Crowley purred.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Dean demanded in anger. His voice had risen slightly and caused the radio to pop and crackle loudly.

“Calm down Dean or you’ll blow the bloody speakers on this old metal deathtrap of yours.” Crowley said as if he was talking to a five year old.

“What makes you think I care?” Dean said back as he lowered his voice just enough to not break anything.

“I don’t think you do care. I just want to listen to some music without your dumbass blowing out the speakers!” Crowley hissed as he turned the radio on.

Dean mumbled under his breath but reached over to pop in a Metallica cassette tape.

‘I’m back in black I hit the sack

I been too long I'm glad to be back’

One of Dean’s favorite Metallica songs suddenly jumped to life. The young demon grinned in earnest as he began to sing along. This song had a whole new meaning to him now.

“Really Dean…..” Crowley said as he raised his eyebrows at his companion.

“House rules Crowley. Driver picks the music. Shotgun shuts his fucking cakehole.” Dean said before he began belting out the next line of the song. As he sang, Dean found that his voice was now much gruffer and deeper than before. He loved the new twang that he heard there it felt like freedom.

“Yes, I’m Let loose from the noose

That's kept me hanging about

I keep looking at the sky cause it's gettin' me high

Forget the hearse cause I'll never die” 

Dean revved the Impala’s engine faster as he belted the familiar song at the top of his lungs.

Beside him, Crowley was giving the man an appraising look of annoyance. He massaged the side of his head as Dean’s voice threatened to burst his eardrums.

After about ten minutes of driving (Way over the speed limit mind you) Dean suddenly swerved the car off the main road and into a fairly crowded bar parking lot.

Crowley hadn’t been expecting the sudden turn off and ended up slamming his head into the impala’s passenger window. “Thanks for the warning Dean.” Crowley said with a sour look.

Dean simply chuckled as he peered up at the sign on the bar. ‘The Black Spur’ Just below the LED sign was a banner flapping slowly in the wind.

It read:

Wanna be a superstar?

Come on down to the Black Spur’s Karaoke night every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.

Win Cash prizes.

-

“Well will you look at that, it’s Tuesday. It must be my lucky day.” Dean said with a wink at Crowley.

“You’re not actually considering doing the karaoke are you Dean?” The King of Hell asked skeptically.

“Hell yeah I am!” Dean said with a smirk. “Get a few drinks in me and I’ll be a fucking superstar up there!”

“Dean your arse is just gonna get booed off the damn stage.”

“Good thing I don’t give a fuck then!” Dean said as he opened the car door.

Crowley sighed at appeared beside Dean instantly.

“Will you fucking leave me alone?” Dean asked as he pushed past the King of Hell roughly.

“Dean get back here!” Crowley called in irritation.

The new demon simply flipped Crowley his middle finger and kept on walking.

Once inside, Dean walked over the bar and took a seat and waited to be served. His eyes were immediately drawn to a pretty little blond girl wearing tight jeans, a very low cut blue shirt, and a pink flowered jacket. As she bent over to grab something, Dean began checking out her nice ass.

Dean wanted to devour this chick. She looked absolutely delectable. One way or another Dean was determined to bang her hard tonight.

“Well hey there, what can I get ya tonight hansom?” The bartender asked with a slight southern drawl as she walked towards Dean.

“Maybe a piece of that fine ass later on would work.” Dean said with a wink.

The woman flushed slightly and said “Well…. I don’t get off until 2pm…. But… you’ve got a pretty face… so we’ll see if that can be arranged.”

“Aright sweet cheeks. While you’re at it give me a bottle of your finest scotch.” Dean said with a seductive wink.

She smiled slightly and walked off leaving Dean alone momentarily. When he turned to look around the room Dean jumped suddenly as he saw Crowley appear beside him. The music in the bar had been so loud that the demon hadn’t heard the rustle of air that usually announced an angelic or a demonic presents.

“I thought I told you to fuck off Crowley.” Dean hissed.

“You did asshole, but I need to talk with you Dean.” Crowley said as he rested his arms on the bar counter.

“What makes you think I even want to talk to you?” Dean snapped.

“You know Dean….. Somehow being a demon has made you an even bigger douche bag then you were before.”

“We’ll you’re no angel yourself.” Dean growled.

The woman brought back Dean a dark amber liquid and set it down on the counter. Dean immediately picked it up and took a swig without thanking her.

“I’m Ann-Marie by the way.” The woman said with a small smile as she tucked a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear. Then in a slightly shy voice she asks “What’s your name?”

“Dean.” He said with a wink as his eyes traveled up and down her smoking body slowly.

“Nice t’ meet ya Dean. “ She said before turning her attention to Crowley sitting quietly next to him. “This a friend of yours?” She asked as she nodded towards the King of Hell with a small smile.

“Yes, I am. I’m Crowley. Dean and I are tight. Besties you could say” Crowley said before Dean could answer.

The young demon’s jaw stiffened slightly and he had to close his eyes to prevent them from turning black out of anger. He was pretty damn sure that he wouldn’t get laid if his eyes turned fucking black on him.

“Well Crowley, would you like something?” She asked as Dean reopened his still green eyes.

“I’ll have what he’s having darlin.” Crowley said.

Dean watched as her jaw tense when Crowley had called her darling. A sense of achievement washed over Dean as he smirked smugly at the king of hell. Afterwards Ann-Marie walked away to go get Crowley his drink.

“Shut up Dean.” Crowley grumbled.

“Stay away from my prize. She’s mine.” Dean hissed possessively.

Crowley groaned and said “So can we talk?”

“You got five minutes.” Dean said as he drained half of his scotch in a single gulp.

“You want to talk here?” Crowley asked in surprise.

“Four minutes and fifty-five seconds.” Dean commented as he turned his head to look at Crowley.

“Fine…. Have it your way then.” Crowley hissed as Dean smirked at his victory “I want to make a deal with you-“

“-You know better than anyone that I don’t have a soul to sell Crowley.” Dean said interrupting the demon.

“That’s not the kind of deal talking about Dean and why the hell would you not have a soul? You didn’t sell it you daft dingbat.”

Dean’s tried to hide his surprise at Crowley’s words and distracted himself by draining his glass.

“This is why I’m helpful to you Dean…. I know more about being a demon than anyone.” Crowley continued.

“So what are you trying to get at….You have three minute.” Dean told Crowley as Ann Marie brought Crowley his drink and refilled Dean’s.

When she walked away again Crowley resumed talking.

“Think of it…… The King of Hell... Dean Winchester by his side…” Crowley paused and looked at his hands “Together…. we can create the perfect hell.”

“Why would I want to run hell? I’ve got everything I need up here. Hot women, beer, porn, sex; what more could I want.”

“Power Dean. Power. You still have the mark; you aren’t just a demon Dean. You’re a knight of hell!”

“Well you’re full of surprised tonight aren’t you.” Dean grumbled as he let that thought travel through his head. This meant that Dean was practically unstoppable. The only thing that could killed him, was the blade hidden under his shirt.

“Ann-Marie can I get a beer over here!” Dean called to the bartender who was serving a man who was wearing a cowboy hat and looked like he was about fifty.

“Sure thing I bring one right over!” She called back with a grin.

“Was this your plan all along Crowley? You seem pretty damn organized.” Dean said as he stood up to glare down at the King of Hell. He had heard about as much as he could take from Crowley tonight.

“I needed to keep you sharp for our future.” Crowley hissed trying to keep Dean guessing.

Dean looked away slowly and said “Our future?”

“Yes Dean. Hell needs some structure! Some organization! Your brothers old butt buddy Luci, left it in shambles and I haven’t fully cleaned up his mess yet! Hell is a big place Dean.” Crowley snapped.

Dean rolled his eyes and sat back down as Ann-Marie brought him his beer. The young demon nodded to the girl before she walked away to serve someone else.

“Who says I want that. It sounds pretty fucking shitty to me. I’m having fun right and I don’t wanna give it up.” Dean said as he slowly sipped his drink.

“I will treasure our flicker albums forever, but now it’s time for us to accept what we are and go back to work.” Crowley said seriously as he carefully explained part of his plan to Dean.

“Why?” Dean said looked up at Crowley seriously.

“Why what?”

“I’ve already accepted what I am. Why should I go back to work? I have been working my ass of for everyone else for the past 31 years of my miserable fucking excuse for a life. When do I get my break? Why should I care about your sorry ass offer after everything you’ve done? After all those damn road blocks you threw up for me, Sammy, and Cas through the years!” Dean pressed as he began to get angry.

“Everything I’ve done? Who brought you this new life! Who gave you this freedom you speak of! I’ve given you what you’ve wanted! I’ve made you a stronger man Dean!” Crowley’s voice was beginning to get louder as he became mad at Dean.

“Oh yeah, because the getting Mark of Cain, fighting Abaddon, and getting stabbed in the damn chest by Metadouche was such a fucking cake walk in the park! And let’s not all the times you’ve nearly gotten Sam and Cas killed!”

Crowley let out an exasperated sigh before saying “Nearly is the key word there Dean.”

“You’re not helping your cause Crowley.” Dean growled.

Crowley pursed his lips and flagged Ann-Marie to bring Dean some more alcohol before he started talking again. “Fine. How about this. Half the time we work with hell. The other half you can, do whatever it is that you are wanting to do.”

“How do I benefit from this?” Dean asked. “Why not just spend 100% of my time doing what I fucking wanna do instead of bending to your twisted rules?”

“I can help you Dean. And among other things….. you will gain the respect of my minions, and… you get a portion of hell to watch after and run as you please. If I recall correctly Ol’ Alistair said you were his best pupil…. You can become my second in command! My right hand man if you will.”

Dean sat there in a stony silence as Ann-Marie brought Dean a shot glass and a half full bottle of whiskey. “Thought ya’ll might like something stronger.” She said with a smile.

“Thank you, love.” Crowley cooed, which earned him a bitch face from Dean.

When she left Dean poured himself as shot of the strong whiskey to the brim and downed it with ease.

As he reached to get another shot Crowley asked “So what do you Say Squirrel, are you in?”

Dean downed his second shot and paused before looking Crowley full in the face and saying “We’re equals for now. No controlling me. No telling me what to do. I do what I want when I want, no questions asked. I will help you with hell and do whatever you tell me to do in order to fix it but….. I want half. I want half of that damn burning pit in my power. Do you understand?”

Crowley slowly nodded and considered Dean’s counter offer. “I…. Think I might be able to work with that….”

Dean was surprised. He had seriously believed that Crowley would take his offer and shove it right back up his ass. Crowley must be seriously desperate to fix hell if he was accepting that kind of offer.

“I might as well ask…..before I agree to your terms…. is there anything that you would like to add….” Crowley said in a long drawling voice.

Dean thought quietly for a second before saying “Leave Sammy alone. If one of your black eye bitches kills him… I’ll kill you and whoever else helped. If anyone is going to kill Sam….. it will be me. Do I make myself clear on that?”

“Crystal…..” Crowley said as he poured himself a shot from the bottle.

“That stands for Cas too. I will be the one to kill him if push comes to shove.”

Crowley drank his shot of whiskey and a short contract appeared in his hand.

“Oh hell no. I ain’t signing nothing. This is an all or nothing deal. You break my trust you’re done, if you stay loyal…. We’re friends.” Dean said looking at the paper with distaste.

“How does this ensure my safety from you then?" Crowley exclaimed.

“Guess you just have to stay on my good side don’t you.” Dean said as he took a third shot and shuttered as the liquor warmed his body.

Crowley pursed his lips and said “We’ll this is going to an adventure now isn’t it….”

Dean smirked and took a fourth shot as the contract vanished.

Crowley slowly looked around the room full of people. The bar was surprisingly crowded for lunchtime on a Tuesday. It seemed to be pretty popular though. “Why is everyone in here dressed up like a band of 1950’s western movie cowboys?”

“Well Crowley… we are in Texas. The heart of all cowboys.” Dean said looking around at the old ox heads and sports paraphernalia hung on the walls. As an afterthought Dean added “It’s reflected both historically and in their sports.”

“Hmmm.” Crowley grumbled as a man decked out with an old cowboy hat and metal clinking cowboy boots walked by.

Crowley’s eyes followed the man until he spotted a game table behind them.

“Fancy a game Dean? A little friendly competition to get the blood pumping.”

Dean turn around to figure out what the hell Crowley was talking about. Then he saw it. It was a nice looking foosball table sitting there unused, just waiting for Crowley and Dean to give it a go.

“Oh you’re on man!” Dean exclaimed as he stood up.

Before he left the counter Dean ordered both of then another glass of liquor.

They spent the next hour switching between playing foosball and pool. Dean was learning that when you were on the same playing field as Crowley, he wasn’t such a bad guy after all. Well…. aside from the fact that Crowley was a demon… and also the king of hell.

“Bloody Hell! How the hell do you keep doing that?” Crowley exclaimed as Dean sunk another goal on Crowley.

Dean laughed loudly and accidentally sloshed beer onto the game table.

“Careful Dean! You’re going to wreck the game!” Crowley exclaimed as he began laughing too.

They were both pretty drunk by now and they were having a blast.

Over the loud speaker a voice suddenly crackled to life.

“Alight all you cowboys and cowgirls! It’s one thirty and you know what that means!” There was a pause before the voice said “It’s time for The Black Spurs Karaoke night!”

“Fuck yeah!” Dean shouted as he ran up to the small stage with his beer in hand.

Dean ripped the mic from the hand of the announcer and climbed up on to the black, speaker filled stage.

“Uh…. Okay…. What do you wanna sing?” The man asked Dean awkwardly as he handed the drunken green-eyed demon a list of songs.

Dean’s eyes swam slightly as he scanned the list. He saw a few good songs before deciding on one that he always secretly liked.

“Play Imaginary Lover by Atlanta Rhythm Section.”

“Ooookayyyy…. I’ll get that started up for you then…. “ The guy said as he walked away and left Dean alone on the stage.

Dean looked over at Crowley, who had taken a seat already. The King of Hell swayed slightly in his chair before giving Dean an encouraging thumbs up.

He grinned smugly back and his eyes lit up as the karaoke screen flashed to life. 

As the words began cross the screen Dean opened his mouth and began belting out lyrics.

"Imaginary lovers never turn you down

Dean knew he was a shitty singer, but he normally wasn't normally this bad. However, Sam had informed Dean on many occasions that his drunken singing sucked ass. On top of the singing, Dean was currently dancing in what he thought was a seductive manner. His hands were trailing up and down his body as he swung his hips from side to side. Dean looked like a drunken mess.

The crowd was shouting and booing Dean as he continued singing.

“It's my private pleasure, Midnight fantasy.

Someone to share my wildest dreams with me imaginary lover.

You're mine anytime imaginary lover”

As Dean danced some of his beer sloshed from the cup and fell onto the stage and some of the equipment.

When the song ended Dean continued to stand on the stage with the mic clutched firmly in his muscular hands.

“Alright buddy, pass it on now.” The announcer said to Dean.

Dean glared down at the man and said “No! Play another song! One more!”

The announcer didn’t move and just continued to hold his hand out trying to get Dean to give him the mic.

“Come on just play ‘I’m Too Sexy! Don’t be a douchebag man! Come on!’” Dean whined in irritation.

The man realized he wasn’t going to win so he sighed and said “Fine…… but you give the mic back after this song.”

As the guy turned his back on Dean and walked back to the main booth, the demon mocked him. Dean glanced over to Crowley who was giggling drunkenly at Dean’s bad imitation of the announcer.

While Dean was waiting, he jumped off the stage and stole the unopened beer of a man who had just gone into the restroom. He opened the bottle and took a swig and laughed to himself with pride.

The song started up only moments later and Dean began dancing along with the song.

He moved his hips from side to side and pointed into the crowd as he began singing with on screen words.

“I'm too sexy for my love

Too sexy for my love

Love's going to leave me”

The boo’s started up almost instantly but Dean kept on singing.

“I'm too sexy for my shirt

Too sexy for my shirt

So sexy it hurts

And I'm too sexy for Milan

Too sexy for Milan,

New York and Japan”

“Get off the fucking stage asshole!!” Someone shouted at Dean as he threw his beer up at him.

Dean dodged the flying drink with ease and took a swig from his own drink when the song had a small lyric break.

“And I'm too sexy for your party

Too sexy for your party

No way I'm disco dancing”

Dean drained the rest of his beer in a single swallow and threw his empty bottle down at one of the assholes who wouldn’t shut up.

“I'm a model, you know what I mean

And I do my little turn on the catwalk

Yeah, on the catwalk, on the catwalk, yeah

I do my little turn on the catwalk”

Dean had begun strutting around and striking poses on the stage as he sung. He had also started flipping off everyone who booed him. They were just making Dean wanna to stay on stage even longer.

“I'm too sexy for my car

Too sexy for my car

Too sexy by far

and-“

Dean was cut off mid verse by a big bald security guard.

“Okay sir I think you’ve been up here long enough.” The guard tried to pull the microphone from Dean’s hand. Dean looked at the guy like he was smoking crack as he held onto the mic even tighter.

“Sir let go of the microphone.”

“No! Fuck you! I’m not fucking done singing yet!”

“Yes you are sir. Don’t make me call for backup to escort you out of here.” The man said to Dean as he tried and failed again to take the microphone from Dean.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Dean shouted. He was sick of this asshole. His hand was still clasped over Dean’s as he tried to get the microphone again. In a wave of anger Dean shoved the man backwards violently forcing him to fall off the stage.

Two more security guards quickly ran up behind Dean and pinned his arms behind his back. Dean kicked and fought violently to get free from their grip. He was able to land a few solid punches before the third security guard recovered and came to help. After a few minutes, and plenty of chaos, they had forced Dean from the bar and told him never to return.

“Fine then. You all were douchebags anyways.” Dean said as he began to stalk towards the Impala. That was when he saw Ann-Marie, who must have just gotten off from her shift, arguing with another man.

They seemed to be in a heated debate and the guy appeared to be trying to grab at Ann-Marie. A wave of jealousy and over protectiveness flooded throughout Dean. She was his play toy for the night. With that, Dean jumped over a railing and ran to reach her.

“Hey asshat!” Dean called as he stormed over to them.

Both Ann-Marie and the man looked towards the angry demon just moments before his fist went flying. The man buckled under Dean’s fist. His fury was fueled by something deep within him. He knew part of it was because of the blade and the mark branded on his arm. Another part of his anger came from the security guards in the karaoke bar.

“Dean!” Ann-Marie shouted out as Dean slammed the man, who was clearly way drunker than Dean, onto the back of a parked blue car. From there Dean continued to beat the shit out of the man as a group of people began forming and cheering Dean on.

Dean didn’t notice when Crowley came to stand close by and watch him fight. A wicked smile was pulling at the corners of his mouth as he watched the evil flow from the new demon’s veins.

“You better fucking leave her alone or I’ll come and find you and skin your ass alive!” Dean growled in the man’s ear as he punched him repeatedly.

Dean was finally pulled off of the man by Crowley’s cool comforting words and Ann-Marie’s soft warm hands gently tugging him backwards.

“What do you say we all go get dinner Dean? You know, maybe before you bring the cops here.” Crowley said as he took both Ann-Marie and Dean by the elbows and led them to the old Impala.

Dean reluctantly followed Crowley’s lead and pulled his keys free from his pocket.

“Now Dean…. I can’t let you drive this metal monster right now. You drank like ten times the legal limit. Give me your keys Dean.” Crowley said as he slowly slid the single key from Dean’s hand.

“Is this car yours?” Ann-Marie asked in awe.

“Yeah.” Replied lamely as he pulled open the passenger door and climbed in.

“Wow…. She’s beautiful.” She breathed as she also climbed into the car.

Dean didn’t respond as he looked towards The Black Spur again. He saw that there was now an even bigger crowd of people standing outside now. Even the security guards were out there. “Crowley. If we’re gonna get out of here you need to step on it man!” Dean snarled.

“I know what I’m doing Dean! Stop nagging!” Crowley bitched.

With that, the Impala’s engine revved to life and they pealed from the parking lot of the old western style Karaoke Bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Chapters Coming Soon! :)


	4. Broken Heart and Tattered Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a feeling that there are a lot of typos and grammatical errors in this chapter but I promise I will go back and fix them! I just wanted to get this chapter posted! 
> 
> And after this chapter I am going to deviate away from the actual plot of season ten a bit (I mean this is supposed to be a theory on how the season goes and not a play by play account of it, right!) and create my own 'season ten' there will be the same general bases to Sam, Dean and Castiel's story but just with..... well..... my own little twist! ;)

-Castiel’s POV-

Castiel sat in the office that Metatron had previously claimed as his own. His head was in his hands and his body quivered as the tears flowed freely from his eyes.

Dean was dead.

Metatron had stabbed him. Castiel had seen the proof all over that silver angel blade that Metatron had wielded so proudly in front of him. He had seen the evil confirmation in the scribe of Gods eyes as he stared down at Cas in triumph.

He prided himself for finding and destroying Castiel’s one weakness. Dean.

The man that he saved from hell over six years ago was gone. His green eyes had lost their shine and fallen dark with death for all eternity. His light had gone out at there was nothing left but a cold empty shell.

Bitterly, Cas knew he was going to meet a similar fate sooner rather than later. Would he be sent into heaven, or cast down to hell to burn for all his sins? Only time would tell that gut wrenching story.

Cas was human now or pretty damn close to human anyways. Either way, he had no way to bring his friend back. Cas only hoped that Dean himself was heading to heaven. He might be trapped in the veil as of now, but it was a lot better than the down stairs deal.

If Cas couldn’t bring Dean back, the least he could do for him is to rebuild the stairway to heaven. One way or another, Dean was going to get his peaceful ending. Cas would make sure of that.

As he tried to compose himself, Cas thought back to what he had told Hannah after they locked up Metatron "I don't want to be leader anymore. I just want to be an angel again."

After years of fighting what he was, Cas finally realized that God didn’t make him a leader for a reason. He had been an angel, a poor excuse for one, but he had still known what he was and where he stood. Then he had been given that almighty mission to save Dean from hell. That small taste of power and control had led him astray. Dean’s push against fate had made him fall even further away from the title of an angel. Not that he regretted rebelling against heaven, it was just some of the things he did afterwards, like open purgatory and become ‘The New God’ that he wanted to take back.

Now, there was almost nothing the fallen angel wanted more than to have his own grace burning bright within his vessel again. This stolen grace didn't feel right. There was always a constant itch just under the skin. The itch would mix with a painful burning sensation every time some of his limited grace was used. As his energy levels dwindled lower and lower, Cas could feel himself dying. This horrible feeling of slowly fading from the earth was second only to the loss of a loved one.

It had taken Cas hours before he finally mustered up the strength to call up Sam. It took all he had to not break down as he listened to Sam bitch at him for not showing up. He had to hear the whole painful story of Dean dying in Sam’s arms. He had to listen to each painful moment of Dean’s final moments, and how Sam had to bring him back to the bunker and that he had tried to summon Crowley.

His heart froze in place when Sam got to the part about Dean disappearing. Cas could already guess who had paid the dead hunter a visit. Sam confirmed his theory when he said had even found some sulfur in Dean’s room when he looked in there again. The only thing Cas couldn’t figure out was the why and the where. Where could Crowley have taken Dean’s body and why did he want it? Dean was dead for God’s sake.

As Sam talked at Cas, the hunter suddenly gave a choked gasp.

“Sam?” Cas asked in concern “What’s wrong?”

Through the phone the dying angel heard the crisp crinkling of fresh paper.

The next thing Cas knew there was a loud smashing noise and a long violent string of swearing coming from Sam’s mouth.

“SAM?!” Cas exclaimed in a panic. He wasn’t sure if Sam was getting attack or just throwing a major bitch fit. Either way, he knew he should get there fast.

The phone disconnected moments later and Cas took off. He needed to get back to Sam. It took the angel over an hour to get out of heaven and head to the bunker.

He forced his way weakly into the Winchester’s stronghold and found the place in shambles. Cas looked around wildly at the disarray of books, boxes, papers and broken glass that had been thrown haphazardly across the entire room. It looked like a wildly bull had visited, followed closely by a rogue tornado.

In the very center of the room, slumped in and old plush chair, sat Sam. The hunter was wearing a very tattered, blood stained shirt an entire bottle of scotch was clutched tightly in his hand as his disheveled hair fell into his face. Upon closer inspection Cas saw that the particular scotch Sam was drinking had been the bottle Dean had been saving so a special occasion when he felt the time was right. Since Dean was dead it didn’t really matter much anymore.

Sam looked up at Cas with a broken, pained expression spread across his tear-stained face. The hunter set down the bottle momentarily and picked up a yellow worn piece of paper and held it out to Cas.

As the angel walked hesitantly closer he noticed a half-assed sling on Sam’s right arm. His eyebrows wrinkled in confusion and he was about to ask what happened when Sam shook his head in warning.

The angel shut his mouth instantly and slowly took the paper out of Sam’s hand.

He looked down at the paper and his heart stopped in its tracks. It was a note that had been clearly written in none of the than Dean’s abrupt flowing hand writing.

The note was short and consisted of four single words:

‘Sammy Let Me Go’ 

Castiel’s world began to blur as his mind became a whirlwind of questions.

“Wh-when did he write this?” Cas choked as he looked up at Sam.

“After he woke up…..” Sam slurred as he looked at Cas with half drunken eyes.

“After he…. You said he died….” Cas breathed softly as he watched the hunter closely.

“He did…… I watched him die…. But apparently he’s back now. He left me here all alone.” Sam mumbled as he looked towards the wall.

Cas was quiet as he thought about what Sam had said. The silence didn’t last long because Sam suddenly stood up and nearly lost his balance as he drunkenly shouted “THAT ASSHOLE LEFT ME HERE ALONE! WHY WOULD HE DO-“ Sam’s voice cracked “WE WERE SUPPOSED TO STICK TOGETHER!!”

“S-Sam I’m sure Dean had his reasons!” Cas said as he tried to comfort the violent man.

“NO! THERE IS NO EXCUSE FOR THIS! HE CAN”T JUST LEAVE ALL THIS WEIGHT ON ME! HE DIDN”T EVEN TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON OR WHERE THE FUCK HE WENT!”

“He’ll turn up eventually Sam! Dean cares about you! He couldn’t leave you.”

Sam gave the angel a nasty bitch face before saying “Well, like it or not I’m not going to let this one slide. I’m going to find my fucking brother. Last time I didn’t look for him Dean turned into a dick about it.”

Cas couldn’t deny what Sam was saying, but Sam wasn’t strong enough to do this yet. The trials had taken their toll on the hunter and the effects still hadn’t completely worn off yet. Since Sam was so out of it Cas knew that if Dean didn’t want to be found, then no one would find him. Unless Sam knew his brothers moves step by step, then Dean would be untraceable.

“Are you in Cas?” Sam suddenly asked, as he pulled the fallen angel from his thoughts.

“Am I-“ Cas became confused. He must have missed something while lost in his own mind.

“Are you going to help me find Dean?” Sam asked slowly.

Castiel’s eyes widened. He wanted to help Sam, but he knew he was nowhere near strong enough to be any sort of help.

“I-Uhhh… of course Sam…. I’m always willing to help the Winchesters in their time of need.” Castiel said as his shoulder sagged slightly. It was true; he never minded sacrificing himself to help these two humans who he had grown so close to.

Sam was so drunk at the moment that he didn’t notice the glow in Castiel’s eyes fade, nor the weight that had seemed to fallen onto the broken angel’s shoulders.

Castiel’s eyes drifted towards Sam’s injured arm again and he finally brought himself to ask “Would you like me to heal that for you?”

The first sign of actual logic flashed into the long haired hunter’s eyes as he said. “N-no Cas. Save your strength. You’re gonna need it.”

“Sam I really don’t mind. It’s not a prob-“ Cas tried to protest as he lifted his arm to try and heal the man.

“I swear to God if you try and waste your grace on me I will knock your ass out and keep you locked up until it’s not healed again.” Sam threatened.

Cas immediately backed off. He wasn’t sure if sober Sam would actually follow through with that, but he knew that drunken Sam would, and he didn’t have enough strength to resist.

Castiel let him arm drop and he stood in front of the youngest Winchester awkwardly, the paper still grasped in his hand.

Sam pursed his lips when he saw that he had hurt the angel. “Cas… man, all I’m saying is save your strength for yourself and to help me fix Dean. This is nothing, I’ll survive.”

“How did you hurt yourself Sam?” Cas asked “Did that happen earlier with… with Metatron?”

The hunter’s knuckles whitened around the bottle of rum at the mention of Metatron. “I was trying to summon that asshole Crowley. He didn’t show so I… I punched a wall.”

Cas chewed on his lip in concern as he looked down at the hunter in front of him.

Sam began speaking again and said “I swear when I get my hands on Metatron or even Crowley for that matter, I WILL be the last thing they ever see.”

The fallen angel opened his mouth to tell Sam about Metatron but immediately closed it again. Was it wise to tell Sam that the angels had Metatron held captive? Would the hunter listen to logic or would he try everything in his power to get to the wicked angel and kill him? Cas himself wanted nothing more than to kill Metatron too, but first the needed to get some things from him. They wouldn’t be able to get the information that they needed if Metatron was dead. 

Cas wisely avoided telling Sam about Metatron for the moment and said “I will see what I can do to help you find Dean….”

“Thanks Cas. I’m gonna go out and put Dean on the hunter radar. Can you do that with the angels?” Sam asked as he started to stand up.

“Uhh... of course Sam…” Cas watched the hunter as he pulled out his phone and walked into the other room.

“Oh and I’m putting this place down on lockdown….” Sam called over his shoulder “The less in and out activity here, the better I can keep the place secured. So no other angel buddies here for now Cas. Just me and you.”

Castiel’s heart sunk. It wasn’t like he had any other ‘angel buddies’ but that must mean that Cas is a burden on the hunter. Why else would he put the bunker, with him inside, on lockdown?

“I’ll probably find somewhere nearby to stay for now. I’ll pop back in whenever I get any news.” Cas said as he walked towards the door.

Sam stopped and turned with his phone pressed to his ear. “You’re leaving? Are you strong enough Cas?”

“I’m strong enough to go on for a while.” Cas lied. He had maybe two months’ worth of grace left. Maybe. If Sam knew this then he would never let Cas leave.

“Are you sure man? I have plenty of space here! Food, books, showers, anything you need.”

“I’ll be alright Sam. I should probably check in with the other angels to see if they have heard from Dean or Crowley.”

Sam’s eyebrows scrunched together and he looked like he was about to say something else when the person on the other line apparently picked up the phone and said “Hey, Jody. It’s Sam.”

Cas waved awkwardly to the hunter as he turned around. Sam barely noticed as he started to launch into a shortened story about Dean’s disappearance.

As the angel walked slowly up the stairs he heard Sam say “Yeah…. I think Crowley’s behind all this. We need to find them both and figure out what’s going on.”

Cas closed the bunker door behind him and headed towards his ‘pimp car’ As Crowley had once referred to it. Since Metatron had filled his head with book and movie references, Castiel finally knew what a pimp was. However he still liked the car and was not planning on giving it up quite yet. Dean had his cool car, why couldn’t he have a cool one.

The thought on Dean brought the angels spirts down again as he climbed into the vehicle and looked back towards the Winchester’s safe haven. He knew he didn’t belong there. The bunker was no place for angels, nor fallen angels for that matter.

His home was gone. He didn’t belong in heaven anymore. He had caused so much pain and destruction up in heaven. Why should he get to go back there?

Cas knew he had no home anymore and he accepted the damning fate of walking aimlessly, lost and homeless on earth until his stolen grace finally failed him. He should have died years ago, but by some blessing, or curse, however you would like to look at it, he had been brought back multiple times. God must have had some unknown plan for him that he failed over and over again. Then again, maybe Cas was supposed to help the world fall. Maybe this was the plan all along.

The Winchester’s lives had never been easy, but he was sure that they would take their old lives back in a heartbeat. When he and the rest of his garrison had shown up, everything had gone to hell. He must have unleashed a bit of hell on earth when he saved Dean from the pit.

Cas couldn’t even rescue a man from hell without screwing up. He knew he was a sorry excuse for an angel and he now had no way to fix any of it.

The road passed by Castiel in silence as he tried to work his way through his flurry of thoughts. He had lost so much over the years and now he was alone. The other angels believed in him again but greatly distrusted him. The ones would have trusted and helped him were dead. He felt like a burden to Sam, and Dean was gone.

Over the span on a billion years, Castiel had never felt more truly alone than in this very moment.

He eventually drove past an old abandon cabin that rested in on the outskirts of town. There was no running water here but Cas couldn’t exactly afford that either. He had been forced to learn that simple human luxuries cost a lot of money, money that he had no way of obtaining, so he just went without.

Cas parked his car behind the cabin, nearly crashing into the side of the building. (He was still becoming accustomed to driving instead of flying.) Then he walked inside the tattered building.

The cabin was in shambles. There were birds living in the rafters, and holes in the roof. Bugs skittered restlessly across the ground as wind whistled softly through the busted windows.

It was far from perfect but to Cas, it was better than nothing.

Cas yawned tiredly as he stared longingly at the old tattered bed. Cas had been driving for what felt like years and the conversation with Sam had gotten him nowhere. It seemed that the stressing over Dean had caused him to tire out much faster than normal. His weakened grace didn’t help the matter either.

Cas scanned the building and eventually found a musty smelling blue robe and few dusty cans of food in the squeaky wooden cabinets.

The fallen angel shed all of his tattered torn blood stained clothes and put on the blue robe. It didn’t smell the greatest but it fit fairly well and felt nice against his bare skin.

Cas opened a single can of what appeared to be pears. The contents were sweet and golden. He ate slowly, savoring each bite of food as his stomach called desperately for more food. Cas couldn’t remember the last time that he had fed his vessel. It had been a while….. he enjoyed food, but he found it hard to come by and disliked the pains caused by hunger. It took too much angel grace to maintain a constant steady metabolism so food was always a struggle for him.

When Cas had finished the pears he set the can down on the counter and climbed slowly into the old dusty bed. He set his phone on the side table a dozed off to sleep.

This routine continued to almost four months before anything changed.

Sam would try to stay in contact with Cas, but his calls became more and more spaced apart. With each call Cas thought Sam sounded more and more discouraged and sicker and sicker. The youngest Winchester was literally killing himself to find his brother.

At first he had tried to figure out what Cas had gotten though with the angels and Cas would always lie and say that they were keeping an eye out for Dean. In truth Cas was too scare of his brothers and sisters to actually ask for help. Many of the angels were still angry with him and wanted his head.

Just because he hadn’t contacted the angels didn’t mean that he didn’t help look for Dean and a way to fix his fading grace. He had been doing research on them both to the best of his ability. Libraries, computers anything he could get his hands on and still there was nothing. Not even a sign of Dean or Crowley had appeared in these four months.

One morning, after a particularly long gap between Sam’s phone calls, Cas was awoken to the buzzing of his phone. He lay quietly in place knowing that it was Sam. After a moment he finally reached over and picked up the phone.

“Sam?” Cas asked hesitantly.

“I found him.” Castiel’s heart stopped. His mind began spinning rapidly and a smile spread across his face.

“You foun-“ Cas suddenly cut off and began coughing violently. He was forced to curl up over himself as the painful coughs ripped through his body. When he pulled his hand away from his mouth, Cas saw blood. He pursed his lips and wiped his hand off before replying to Sam again. “You found Dean?”

“Yes.” Sam’s reply was sharp monotone reply. There was no joy within his voice, only pain and concealed anger.

“Sam…. What happened? Where is Dean?” Cas asked in confusion.

“I- just you need to get here. I'll explain later." Sam said

"I'll be there as soo-" *click* "-n as I can Sam......" Cas pulled the phone away from his face and said to himself "it was nice talking to you too......"

Despite his annoyance with Sam's rudeness, Cas couldn't help but become fearful of the news that Sam was bringing him. Judging by the flat tone of voice the hunter had, things weren't good.....

Be should probably get to Sam as soon as he could. How much gas did he have in his car? He would probably need to gas up before the trip, which means he would need money..... He would work something out. He had to; this was Dean they were talking about.

As Cas pondered the situation a loud ringing noise filled the room. Castiel threw his hands over his ears and fumbled for his nearby angel blade.

Suddenly the ringing noise cut out and left behind a defining silence. Then over the angel radio in his head a direct message was sent in to him.

'Castiel, we need to talk its important don't attack me. I'm coming in.'

Cas quickly concealed the angel blade under his blue rob and stood to greet his apparent guest.

As he cautiously approached the door a short brunette walked in with her hands up in surrender.

"Cas it’s me. We need to talk its important."

Cas released the tension in shoulders and said "Hello Hannah."

She didn't say anything but allowed her eyes to travel downwards to his exposed crotch area.

He had forgotten what he had been wearing, or not wearing in this case. Cas shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and moved the robe to cover himself up.

"I should probably change. I apologize.... I had very limited notice of your arrival. I will go and make myself decent so we can talk." Castiel said as he looked at the floor.

Hannah just nodded slowly and watched as Cas turned and walked into the only other room in the small cabin.

Cas sighed and pursed his lips as he got dressed. He thought that he hidden himself well enough from the angels, but apparently he really hadn’t.

Cas pulled his suit on and grabbed his tan jacket before walking back out to Hannah.

She was slowly walking around the room and examining each and every little aspect of the cabin’s shambles.

“You’re very secluded here….” Hannah stated as she heard Cas enter the room.

“Yes…. I don’t want any of the other angels attempting to find me. I’ve got enough problems on my hands right now without our brothers and sister trying to put my head on a platter.”

“Fair enough, but you are far from okay Cas.” Hannah said as concern shone in her eyes. “You’re getting worse and worse by the day.”

“I’m fine.” Cas said with determination.

“You’re dying Castiel.” She said with a bitter tone in her voice.

“I’m doing everything I can Hannah. This hasn’t exactly been the easiest thing to cope with.”

“I understand that Cas, but why didn’t you come to us? We could help you!”

“No one can help me Hannah. I did this to myself I deserve this fate after all the wrong that I have done.”

“But Castiel-“ Hannah began but she was interrupted by Castiel saying “So what do I owe the pleasure of this visit Hannah?”

The other angel sighed in defeat and reluctantly answered Castiel’s question. ”I need you. Heaven needs you Cas. The angels are lost, they need your guidance!”

“Hannah, I have told you before, I don’t want to be a leader anymore. It has resulted in nothing but trouble for me. I just want to be an angel again.”

Hannah pursed her lips and said “If I tell you that we’ve located Dean would you be interested?”

Castiel’s head snapped to attention, causing black dots to flash before his eyes as he staggered a little,

“Castiel?” Hannah’s voice was concerned again.

“I’m fine. What were you saying about Dean?” Cas asked sharply.

“I-uh… some of the other angel’s encountered him at a local rest stop…. And-“

“Where?” Castiel interrupted Hannah again. “Is it close by?”

“Yes…. About an hour’s drive, but-“

“Alright let’s go then. I’ve got a car. We can put more of gasoline in it along the way.” Castiel said as he rushed out the door.

Only minutes later they were both settled in the car and heading off in the direction that Hannah had instructed him.

“Castiel….”

“Thank you Hannah…. You’re a good soldier…. One of the best, but I don’t want you to have to involve yourself in this. This isn’t your battle… It’s me and Sam’s.” Castiel’s said before Hannah could say anything more.

“It’s our fight Castiel. All angels have been expelled from heaven and I chose to be on your side. So your fights are my fights. There was an irritated tone of annoyance ringing within her voice.

“Thank you…..”

“I will do anything in my power to help you but… I’m worried about you Castiel.”

Cas glanced over to his sister and saw her staring back at him with a determined concerned look on her face. A small strained smile crossed over her face as Cas watched her. He sighed deeply and tried to focus on the road again without saying a word. ‘What kind of fate am I damning Hannah to?’ Castiel asked himself as he drove.

“I want you to focus on yourself too.” Hannah breathed. “You are getting so much weaker. I can see how close your grace is to burning out. What are you going to do Castiel?”

“I’ll manage.” Castiel replied. He knew that she was right. There wasn’t much of his grace left. He could feel it burning a hole in his soul as he neared his own self destruction.

Castiel’s gas tank was near empty now and he pulled into the first roadside gas station that he found.

He quickly got the machine running and said “I’ll be right back. I’m going to buy a bottle of water.”

Castiel was dying of thirst. The nervousness over Dean, Sam’s dead sounding voice, and fretting over his inevitable death had caused the fallen angels throat to dry out horribly.

He was brushing off his coat as he walked shakily into the gas station door. Castiel looked up to find the water display and he instantly froze in his tracks.

Standing only a few feet away from him was the back of a very familiar man. A pie was clutched in his hand along with a few skin mags and oil for a car.

When the man turned around Castiel gasped at the horrible face of evil that glared back at him.

The skeletal face and sharp vicious teeth distorted the once pure man’s features. His eyes shone with darkest black and glinted like an endless black hole of despair.

“Well heya Cas. Long time no see. Guess you’re still hanging in there with that stolen grace of yours aren’t ya.” Dean Winchester said with wicked laugh as his boney wings fluttered in anticipation for what was to come.


End file.
